For His Ears Only
by luvscharlie
Summary: It is Hermione Granger's first day of work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and her first night in a new home. Ron makes both unforgettable. RW/HG Originally written for rwhgficexchange on Live Journal


_For His Ears Only by Luvscharlie_

Hermione walked into the Ministry of Magic to report for her first day of work at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She proceeded to the security desk and had her wand checked.

"Good morning, Hermione."

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley."

"I thought I would meet you and walk you to your new office."

Arthur Weasley was one of the kindest men she knew. "That would be lovely, thank you."

"Well, I didn't think Ron would appreciate it if I let you get lost on your first day."

Break

Her day had started with Mr. Weasley's greeting and had been a flurry of activity. She attended a meeting of all Department Heads, where she had been called upon to discuss her intentions as head of the department by someone she was sure only asked to embarrass her, convinced she would have no answer, as it was only her first day. She had stood up proudly and spoke for more than ten minutes, giving a detailed account of what her plans for the department would entail. Kingsley winked at her when she sat back down. Some seemed to think she had only been given this job because she was Harry Potter's friend. She would show them. Not only would she do this job, she would do it better than it had been done before.

Much to her delight, there were people calling her 'Madam' and rushing around to do what she told them. Time seemed to speed forward as she worked to move some of the stacks of paper from her desk. Hermione was in her element. She had her own office, and there was this lovely new desk and this comfortable chair…She was, for lack of a better word, giddy over this job. This was what heaven was like, she was certain. She leaned her head back in her new chair and closed her eyes, but was jerked quickly from her blissful thoughts by the sound of Ron's voice.

"I've been waiting on you for two hours." He stood in the doorway of her office, arms crossed over his chest.

His voice was angry and annoyed. She had to admit he had the right to be upset with her. She had spent the entire week getting ready to start this job, sitting in on meetings and reading files. Harry and Ginny were gone on their honeymoon, and she and Ron needed to find a place to live, so he had taken over that task without any input from her. He found a flat for them and made arrangements for all their things to be moved from Grimmauld Place. They were supposed to meet there and spend their first night together in the new home he had arranged for them. She knew he had hired people to do it (one of the benefits of working at the shop with George was that finances were no longer in scarce supply), but still, he had made all of the arrangements without complaint.

"Ron, I'm sorry. I completely—"

"Forgot. Yeah, I figured as much." He held up the bag containing two boxes of take-away and came to sit on the opposite side of her desk passing her one of the cartons of food.

"Thanks," she said, quite ashamed of herself.

"Um-hm," he said still sounding annoyed. "So tell me what was so important about your day that it made me completely forgettable."

"Oh, it wasn't like that—I mean, you could never be—I mean— I really am sorry."

He smiled at her. "Hermione, relax. I'm teasing you a bit. I **was** annoyed at first, but now I'm just teasing you. I'm sure I can find a way to punish you later." He winked at her, "Seriously, tell me about your day."

She started with the greeting by Ron's dad this morning and didn't take a breath until she had told him about her entire day. She looked across the desk to see him smiling at her, with his arms folded across his chest and his feet propped up on her desk. Her desk was not a proper place for feet, but she would let it slide this time, all things considered.

"You're laughing at me," she said.

"No, I'm smiling at you. There's a difference. I just haven't seen you this excited about something in a long time. Impressed the arrogant bastards at that meeting, did you?"

"It felt so good to see the looks on their faces when I sat back down, Ron."

"That's my girl. And Kingsley was impressed?"

"He was indeed," said Kingsley from the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, walking over to shake Ron's hand. "Good to see you, Ron."

"Nice to see you too, Minister."

"I'm on my way out for the evening," said Kingsley, "but I thought I'd stop by and tell Hermione what an outstanding job she did today." He turned to face Hermione. "You were brilliant. You should have seen her in that meeting, Ron."

"No need to impress me. I already think everything she does is brilliant." Ron winked at her.

"Well, anyone who thinks you got this job by being Harry Potter's friend walked out of there today with a different opinion of Hermione Granger."

Hermione could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you, Minister."

"No, thank you. It makes the doubters think I might actually deserve this job when I hire people like you. Have a good night, you two."

Hermione was still blushing after Kingsley departed. They both remained silent as they finished the rest of their take-away and tossed the cartons into the bin. She could feel Ron's eyes boring into her from his seat on the opposite side of her desk. "Ron, you're staring."

"I doubt the Minister of Magic, himself, comes to congratulate everyone on their brilliant first day of work, you know? I'm proud of you. Congratulations, baby."

"Thank you," she said, feeling the blush on her cheeks deepen. "So how was your day?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "The shop made a lot of money, but I can't say it was overly stimulating or as exciting as your day seems to have gone. _I_ certainly didn't become so engrossed with my work that I forgot what I plan to do to you tonight."

Hermione rushed to close her office door. "Ron! Somebody might hear you, and it's only my first day and—and what do you think you're doing?" He pulled her onto his lap and began working the buttons of her shirt open.

She pushed his hands away, but it almost seemed as though he had grown an extra pair. He had her shirt unbuttoned and off, tossing it to the floor within a matter of moments. He began trying to work the clasp of her bra free, as he kissed her shoulder. She heard voices in the hallway passing her door.

"We are not doing this here," she hissed at him.

"Oh, but we are," he said giving her a smarmy grin. "I've been waiting for two hours to shag you in our new flat. The flat I did all the work to get for us, and you never bothered to come home. So I, being the marvelous boyfriend that I am—" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, Ron, you are marvelous," she said, sounding quite sarcastic even to her own ears.

"Thank you," he said, ignoring her tone and going back to the task of unfastening her bra. "Who in Merlin's name made these damn hooks? They're bloody impossible to get open." He grumbled to himself under his breath. "Not every bloke would go and pick up food for his girl, so she wouldn't starve, after she forgot all about him. You could show a little appreciation, Hermione. Honestly."

"I will show you all the appreciation you want and can imagine _at home_." She tugged his fingers away from the clasp of her bra and attempted to retrieve her shirt from the floor, but was unable to reach it. "Tell me how the flat looks," she said, in an attempt to distract him. "Does it look good?"

"Like a flat. It will look better when I have you in it _kiss_-starkers-_kiss_-in-_kiss_-our-_kiss_-bed-_kiss_."

"You know, when you kiss me after every word, it makes me want you to talk all night. Take me home and let me show you how much I love you," she purred in his ear, trying to persuade him.

"Nope, you had your chance to show me at home, but you never showed up, love. Now I want you right here," he said. He tugged her more firmly across his lap, as he finally succeeded in removing her bra.

She crossed her arms over her breasts in an attempt to cover herself. "Ron! There is a window in the door. What if someone sees us? I am NOT shagging you in my office."

"Yes, you are," he said. "There aren't many people here. Most of them have already gone home for the day." No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than several voices passed her office.

He seemed unfazed by the panicked sound she made upon hearing the voices so close to her door. She looked down to see that he had already unfastened his trousers and his cock was standing at attention as he stroked it against her thigh. She never tired of looking at him, and she was mesmerized for a moment-- but only a moment as another voice passed by her door, this time even closer still.

"Ronald Weasley, I swear to you—what are you doing? Ron, no. I am serious."

He paid her protests no mind. He swiped the entire contents from the top of her desk into the floor with one arm and roughly shoved her face down over her desk with the other. "So you're really not turned on?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

"No, I'm really not turned—Oh gods, yes," she shrieked as his fingers slipped beneath her skirt and under the cloth of her knickers, gently separating her folds and rubbing lightly with the pads of his fingers.

"Liar," he whispered in her ear. "Your cunt is dripping wet for me."

There was no point denying it. The proof was there pooled between her legs, and his fingers were doing the most delicious things to her clit. His cock pressed up against her entrance with only the thin barrier of her knickers between them. "Tell me you want me to fuck you, Hermione."

"I will not. We are in my office for Merlin's sake."

Ron stepped back away from her.

Was he actually going to stop? Did he not recognize when she was protesting simply for the sake of propriety? They were not supposed to shag in her office. No doubt, it was exciting, but that did not make it acceptable. The fact that someone might catch them only made it all the more exciting…and all the less acceptable. Between the two of them, Ron was the one who took chances, broke rules and, at times, challenged her to do things she would never have been brave enough to do alone. He was the adventurous one, so why was he listening to her now? "Why are you stopping, Ron?"

"You told me to."

Well this was a fine time for him to actually start doing what she asked of him. She groaned in exasperation.

She could think of nothing sexier or more exciting than Ron shagging her atop her brand new desk where any of her new co-workers could walk in and catch them at any moment. She wanted to feel his hips rocking against her as he entered her with long, slow strokes. It would be the perfect angle to allow him to reach the spot inside of her that made her world explode. After all, this desk was almost precisely the same height as the table at Grimmauld Place, and much to Harry's dismay, it was one of their favourite places to shag, and—oh, she was thinking entirely too much on this, when she really wanted to be doing it.

"I'm only doing what I'm told, love." He was smirking at her. Damn him. He knew her far too well sometimes.

"Since when did you start doing what you're told?" she whinged.

"I figured I better start since we're moving into our own place today. When Harry and Ginny come home from their honeymoon, they'll have Grimmauld Place all to themselves."

The prat! He knew she wanted him, and he was forcing _her_ to do something about it. She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder, then stood and leaned back against him, his chest firmly against her back as his cock pressed against the cheek of her arse, hard and demanding. She reached behind her, wound her hand behind his neck and pulled his head forward to capture his lips for a kiss. She checked behind her to make sure he was watching, as she slid her knickers down her legs. He groaned into her neck, when she reached for his hand and placed it against her wetness. "Ron," she said in a low whisper, which she hoped sounded seductive and sexy. He pressed his body even closer against her back, though she hadn't thought it possible.

"Hermione," he moaned.

She reached back behind her into his open trousers, wrapping her hand around him and stroked up and down his length. He shoved his trousers and shorts down past his hips to grant her better access to his hard shaft, as his breathing quickened. She pressed his tip against her wetness, grinding her hips down and penetrating herself with his cock. "Make me come, Ron."

"Bloody hell, I can't resist when you do that," he said, as she ground herself down onto him again. He thrust up hard to meet her twisting hips and, though she bit her lip, a small squeal escaped them.

"Too hard?" he asked, his voice taking on a concerned tone, as his chest pressed her to the desk, his lips next to her ear, his knuckles white and inches from her own hands as he gripped the edge of her desk for added leverage. There wasn't an inch of her body that he didn't cover with his own. The feel of him-- he felt like – was there a word to describe that kind of perfection? She didn't think so.

"Just a bit too hard," she replied, sliding her hand atop one of his and turning her head to look at his face. He was beautiful; he was hers; and she loved him with all that she was.

"Tell me how, baby." His next stroke was long and slow, and at just the right angle to reach where she most wanted to feel him.

"Yes," she hissed, teeth clenched. "That's it."

"Just like that?" he asked, making another identical stroke.

"Uh huh. Merlin, that's good," she gasped, as she rocked her hips in time with his. "It's perfect." If there was another word, she really must find it. 'Perfect' was far too common a word to describe what this was. This was so much sweeter than perfection.

His thrusts quickened and she knew he had reached his breaking point. He twisted her clit between his fingers as he came. Ron continued his manipulations of her clit and, even after his orgasm subsided, he remained buried within her. "Are you close, love?" he asked.

"Yes," she hissed, "so close. Don't stop."

"I'm not stopping, baby." He moved his lips closer to her ear so that he could whisper into it. "I love you. I can't wait to take you home and make love to you in our new flat. I'm going to make you come so hard you see stars tonight."

His words were enough to finish her off. She came with his name on her lips. He captured her mouth in a kiss just in time to muffle the sound and swallow down her words.

Hermione retrieved her discarded clothes and dressed, as Ron sat back in her chair, his feet once more on her desk (_we really must talk about that_) watching her with a roguish grin on his handsome face.

"What are you thinking about that's put such a smile on your face, Mr. Weasley?" she teased.

"Just thinking about taking you home—sounds strange to say 'home' aloud, doesn't it?—and seeing if our table works as well for this as your desk."

"We should definitely go _home_ and try out that table. Hm, I think _home_ sounds just wonderful when you say it." She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he Apparated them _home_.

Break

Hermione snuggled down under the covers in the center of _their_ new bed. She certainly loved the way that sounded. She heard Ron's footsteps as he entered the room.

"Oi! You think you might share a bit of the bed? You are such a bed hog and a cover stealer," he said, "Shove over."

She gave him her best attempt at a pitiful look. "I was over on your side of the bed because I wanted to snuggle with you. Seeing as that's how you feel, I'll just move over to my own side."

He grabbed her by the waist and hauled her back against him. She was forced to her knees in order to be tall enough to wrap her arms around his neck as he stood beside the bed. "Come here, you."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud at him. He was never able to resist when she gave him the pitiful look or used what she always thought of as the sad-little-helpless-voice. He was so predictable sometimes.

She pressed her forehead to his. "So are you going to bring me take-away to my office every evening? Cause if you are, I think I might need to put in a request to have my desk reinforced and that window removed from my door."

"No, because you're going to be here tomorrow evening when I get home. You'll have dinner made and the flat is going to be so clean I could eat off the floors and--"

She put her hand to his forehead. "I think that shag exhausted you to the point of delusions. Poor baby."

"Nah, just trying to get you to row with me," he said, pushing her down on the bed. She pulled the duvet up as he slid in beside her.

"That's not going to happen. I am much too relaxed to row with you tonight." Hermione yawned and reached for a book on the bedside table, but Ron took it from her hand and tossed it away.

"Are you still looking to row?" she asked, indicating where her book had landed. "I'm thinking I just might be up for a good row after all. Why did you throw my book, Ronald?"

"I only want to row if we can make-up for hours afterwards. Besides, you said you wanted to snuggle with me. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, but—"

"So come here and snuggle with me, witch."

"You couldn't have snuggled up next to me while I read?"

"No."

"And why not, might I ask?"

"I want your undivided attention. That is why." Ron shifted and put his head in her lap.

"You just wanted to put your head in my lap so I would stroke your hair," she grumbled under her breath.

"I can think of several reasons why I might want to put my head in your lap." He grinned impishly up at her as she began running her fingers through his soft, ginger locks.

"I can think of several reasons why I might want your head in my lap." She returned his smile and brushed a lock of hair back that had fallen over his brow. "You like being petted more than Crookshanks, you know. I keep expecting you to purr when I stroke you."

"Stroke the right parts and I might." He opened one eye to look up at her.

"You are incorrigible, Ron Weasley."

"Me? I'm not the one talking about where I should stroke you to make you purr. You are the incorrigible one, Hermione." He lowered his voice, "By the way, where should I stroke you to make you purr, kitten? I already know some of the spots, but if there's some I've missed, you should tell me about them. Hearing you purr is one of my favourite sounds. It sounds almost as good as hearing you scream my name when you come."

"Call me kitten again, and all you're going to hear is the back of my hand connecting with the side of your head."

"Ah, come on, Hermione. Let me call you kitten. It fits you perfect."

"It does not. It doesn't fit me at all."

"Sure it does. When you get all sore with me, you hiss and whinge and bring out your claws." She scowled at him, but he was oblivious. He raised his head from her lap, yanked the duvet from around her and continued his analogy.

One hand tickled its way up her calf and along her inner thigh, as the other teased her nipple into a hard point. His lips were against her ear, and his voice was barely audible as he began to whisper, "But nobody else gets to call you kitten. Nobody else—nobody but me."

She would never admit it, but there were few things that turned her on faster than when he talked to her in that possessive way, claiming her as his.

"I'm the only one who knows where to stroke you." His finger slipped inside her. "I'm the only one who knows where to lick you." His tongue darted out and into her ear, warm and wet. "I'm the only one who gets to kiss you until you're breathless in my arms." He captured her lips with his, and the kiss was deep. It lasted so long she was gasping for air when they finally broke apart. He pulled away from her and smirked when she whimpered. "When we come home at night—I still can't believe I get to come home to you every night, love—I'm going to pet you all over until you're curled up in my lap or in my bed purring with contentment." Ron sat up and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping her in his arms.

Gone was the teenage boy who had fumbled for the right words; before her now was a self-confident man who knew just what to say to make her heart beat in double-time. "Ron, that's enough. I'm convinced. You can call me whatever you want," she said, kissing him hard on the mouth and slipping her tongue past his lips.

"Not quite finished yet," he said. "Nobody else is ever going to hear you purr. They won't have the chance. Only me. It's the sound you make when you curl up next to me at night, right after we've made love and you're snuggled up against my side."

She hadn't thought it possible to love him more than she already did. She realized how wrong she was as her heart swelled to near bursting with each word that tumbled from his lips.

"And when I need to be inside you—when I've got to have you right then, you rake your nails over my back, like a little wildcat leaving scratches with your sharp little claws. See why kitten is the perfect name for **me** to call you? **My** kitten. Only mine."

She nodded, kissing him, as he pushed her down into the mattress. She clung to him, pulling him down with her. The all consuming passion and I-need-to-shag-you-right-now desperation of earlier was gone. This was lovemaking. Ron was gentle, loving, taking his time to kiss and caress her tenderly, to whisper the pretty words she loved to hear him say.

She ran her fingers through his hair, parting her lips to the demands of his eager tongue. Her legs wrapped around his waist. "Only yours. Forever yours. Make love to me, Ron."

He entered her slowly, kissing her neck and ear. His fingers flicked lightly across her nipples and she arched into the contact. He worked his hand between them and pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing in a circular motion. "Purr for me, Kitten," he whispered.

As much as she had hated the name when he first said it, just the sound of it rolling from his lips was enough to make her body tremble. He increased the speed of his thumb's circles, as well as the pace of his thrusts, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy and pulling her over the edge.

She rode out the waves of her orgasm as he quickened the pace of his strokes, "Love you, Kitten," he whispered in her ear as he exploded with a final hard thrust into her.

She planted light kisses on his face as his breathing slowed and she curled into his arms beneath the covers. "I love you too."

Break

Hermione awoke the next morning to the sound of knocking on the front door of the flat and the shower running. She pulled on her dressing gown and answered the door wondering who would be visiting so early in the morning. The sun hadn't even risen yet.

"Hermione," Ginny squealed, as she and Harry entered the flat.

"Good morning, Hermione," Harry said, smiling at her. "I'm sorry we woke you, but Ginny was excited. We just got back and she wanted to see your new place."

They looked so happy. Their smiles were infectious. "How was the honeymoon?" Hermione asked. She went to the kitchen and searched the cabinets for what she needed to make coffee. She had not taken the time to check the night before, and wasn't even sure they had coffee. She shuffled things around until she found what she needed.

"The honeymoon was fabulous," gushed Ginny.

Hermione heard the door to the loo open, and Ron strode out with a towel slung low around his hips.

"Kitten, are you awake?" he asked, heading in the direction of their room.

"Ron, I'm in here," she called. "Harry and Ginny are here too."

"Be there in a few," Ron replied, closing their bedroom door to get dressed.

She turned to look at the newlyweds. Harry was smirking at her and Ginny was biting her lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle.

"Kitten?" Harry mouthed, arching an eyebrow at her in question.

"Just never you mind what he calls me, and don't you dare tease him. Do you hear me, Harry Potter? Not a word! I swear, if you make it so Ron stops calling me that, I will hex your bits off. And don't you think for one minute that I won't." She pointed her finger at him to more firmly convey her warning.

Harry held up his hands, as if in surrender. "Okay, okay. Calm down. I won't say anything. I just want to know how in Merlin's name he convinced you to let him call you kitten. See what happens when we go away for a week, Gin. Our best friends turn into strangers. It seems as if she rather enjoys being called kitten, so maybe we should start calling her that too."

"I would swear somebody's put her under the _Imperius_ Curse. The Hermione I know would never allow, much less enjoy, being called – what was it again?" Ginny laughed. "Kitten, I believe it was?"

"I am quite serious! Both of you listen up. Not a single word to embarrass him, or I will not be responsible for the lack of non-functional body parts your husband leaves here with, Ginny."

Harry grimaced. Ginny grinned.

"My brother has apparently become rather good at getting what he wants in our absence. I'm still waiting to hear what Ron did to convince you to allow him to call you that—that hideous name."

"Ron can be very persuasive when he wants to be." Hermione looked up to see Ron exiting their room. He was clad only in a pair of worn denims, hair still wet from the shower and whistling.

"Someone's in a good mood this morning," said Harry.

Ron's ears turned a bit red in response. Hermione thumped Harry on the back of the head.

"Ow. What'd I do? Blimey, Hermione, that hurt," he said, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I only said he was in a good mood," Harry grumbled.

Ginny took Harry's hand and led him toward the door. "We're going to go while my husband still has all of _my_ favourite parts attached and in working order. We'll just see you two later."

When the door closed behind the newlyweds, Ron turned to Hermione, "What was that all about?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders in feigned bewilderment. "I have no idea. Now come over here and tell me good morning properly."

The corner of Ron's mouth turned up in a lopsided smile, and Harry and Ginny's visit was soon forgotten.

Break

Ron sat on the sofa watching her as she moved around the flat. As she walked by him, he reached out and captured her around the waist, tugging her down onto his lap.

"You smell good," he said, rubbing his face into her hair and neck.

"I am never going to get to work at this rate."

"Good, stay home."

"Ronald, you have to let me up or I'm going to be late for work," she said, struggling to get off his lap.

"Floo call and tell them you're ill," he whinged against her neck, as his teeth nipped at her earlobe.

"Ron, it's only my second day of work. I can't pretend to be ill."

He was not finished trying to convince her to skive off work. He nuzzled his nose against her neck. "I'll write you a note."

"Really? And what will your note for me say?" His warm breath against her neck was weakening her resolve and making it difficult to concentrate.

"Something like 'please excuse Hermione from work today, she was in desperate need of a shag.' How's that?" he asked working his tongue past her lips.

There was a loud crash outside their window which startled them both, but Ron was off the sofa and at the window, wand at the ready, before Hermione could process what was happening.

He looked out the window and shook his head in disgust. "We are getting my parents an owl for Christmas this year. I don't care what they say." Grumbling under his breath, he exited the flat, returning a few moments later with his parents' owl, Errol, in tow.

"Bloody bird knocked itself out." Ron laid the now semi-conscious owl on the table and went to get him some pellets of food and some water, as Hermione detached the parchment from the owl's leg.

"He's too old to carry post for even this short distance. I've tried to tell them I'll get them another bloody owl," said Ron as he re-entered the kitchen.

Hermione unrolled the parchment and silently began to read: _Author's Note: The letter below cannot be formatted correctly in , so the words bolded and underlined, should be read as crossed out by Mr. Weasley on the parchment._

_Ron,_

**I heard** _I know you _**came**_ visited with Hermione at the Ministry yesterday. For future reference, the blue box on Hermione's desk is equipped with a Sonorus charm for making announcements throughout the Ministry. The next time you _**come**_ visit, it would be wise to make sure it is_ **not turned on**-_ Oh, for Merlin's sake, next time make sure the red light in the center of the blue box is lit up. I spent most of yesterday evening modifying the memories of co-workers who heard the two of you –Well, you know what they heard when the Sonorus_ **came on**_ was activated._

_Dad_

She finished reading the rolled up note and looked at him.

"What is it, love?" Ron asked, concern furrowing his brow at the look on her face.

"I'm not going to work today."

"In desperate need of that shag, are you?" he asked with a wicked grin. "I'm more convincing than I thought."

"I'm never going to the Burrow again either," Hermione replied, passing him the parchment. "In fact, I don't think I can go anywhere your father might be ever again."

Ron had just finished reading the note from his father when Pigwidgeon hooted at the closed window. Ron let him in and removed the parchment from the little owl's leg. Hermione watched as Ron's eyes scanned the parchment before passing it to her. He grinned when he finished reading the note, and wrapped his arms around her waist kissing up and down the column of her neck as she read.

_Ronald,_

_Minister Shacklebolt asked your father to inform Hermione that she may take the day off, as some memories still need modifying before she returns to the office. I am certain George will not mind if you would like the day off as well, dear. I am quite ashamed at your behavior. Honestly, I raised you better than this. Perhaps you should use this time off to think about what you've done and the embarrassment you have caused your father._

_Mum_

_P.S. Do not even think about skiving off the family dinner. I will expect you __both__ here on time this Sunday._

Ron pushed Hermione towards the kitchen table and sat her on top of it lifting her legs around his waist, as he loosened the tie of her dressing gown and pulled it down her shoulders.

"And just what do you think you're doing, Ron?"

"You read the letter. We're supposed to be thinking about what we've done. We don't have your desk here, so this will have to do, Kitten."

Though mortified at the thought of facing Ron's family again, Hermione burst into a fit of giggles, which soon became moans as Ron's hands and lips drove her mad with desire.

"Purr for me, Kitten," he whispered in her ear.

The scratches she left on his back that morning left little doubt that his kitten could also be a wildcat when the occasion warranted.

Break

A week later, as they lay cuddled together side-by-side on their bed, Ron reached beneath the mattress and came up with a small box. "I wanted to save this for later, but I can't wait."

He opened it and revealed a small, tasteful ring inside that instantly brought tears to her eyes. "I must have looked at a million of these before I picked one. I had a bigger one picked out, until I saw this one. I knew it was the one as soon as I saw it. You have to look close, because it's deep inside the stone. Do you see it, love?"

She had to squint and hold the ring up to the light to see what he was referring to, but if one looked close enough, within the depths of the clear stone, a tiny kitten was jumping and batting its paw at a butterfly.

"Is it a charm?"

"Must be," Ron replied. "The fellow at the shop said he'd never seen anything quite like it. He said it had been there for several years, and I was the first person to even look at it because it already had an inscription."

She turned the ring over to look inside the thin band. She had to squint, once again, but the words inscribed there stole her breath, 'For my kitten'.

"I couldn't wait to give it to you. It was like it had been waiting there for me to come along and find it." He took her hand and placed it on her finger. It was a perfect fit, and oddly, she had never doubted that it would be.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, "I love you."

"Does that mean you'll marry me?" Ron asked.

She nodded her head and kissed him again. "Yes," she whispered with her lips near his ear. "Make me purr, love."

And he did…time and again.

Fin.


End file.
